


Chopped

by endeavory (play_doh)



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: (again its just sort of), (sort of), Bloodplay, Breathplay, M/M, PWP, anyway, chopped is sexy!, hey uhh sorry this exists, nothing to see here just two killers doing their thing, that black stuff coming out of jack's eyes?, uhhhh its exactly what u wuld expect from these two idk, you already know what that's for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/play_doh/pseuds/endeavory
Summary: I think we can all agree that the real mystery ingredient is the weird black stuff dripping from Jack's eyeholes.





	Chopped

**Author's Note:**

> started this a million years ago on a whim and decided to just finish it. don't really have anything else to say about this lol ✌ 
> 
> ***
> 
> Beta'd by the effervescent @SydneyCarton !!! Check out her writing if u get the chance bc it's the best stuff i've ever read and she is doing god's work

Jeff thought most people were idiots. Sure, some of the people he lived with could be useful, but that didn't diminish his contempt for the entire human race and then some. He was better than any of his psychic killer colleagues, especially the sissy ones like BEN and Sally. Eyeless Jack, however, was just plain creepy--so much so that Jeff didn't hold contempt for him. In fact, he kind of respected him a bit. He couldn't understand the appeal of human flesh no matter how hard he tried, though. Plus there was that weird, viscous black stuff constantly leaking from Jack's eyes, which was a complete mystery to everyone.

Thoughts of the dark-haired cannibal plagued Jeff’s mind as he wandered into the living room of the Slender mansion. As far as he knew everyone was either on killing sprees or going grocery shopping, so he had the couch all to himself. The black-haired killer leaped onto the plush couch, curled up into a ball in one corner, and switched on the television. After two or three long minutes of seemingly endless channel surfing, Jeff conceded that nothing good was on and he settled on Chopped.

The basket of mandatory ingredients this episode included Nutella, pickles, and pig kidneys. Chefs had to use those specific ingredients in their dishes or they'd be disqualified. Jeff snorted at the kidneys, his mind lingering on a certain eyeless expert on the subject. He shifted to lay flat on his back in a more comfortable position and saw something-- someone?--move around the far end of the couch. Jeff leaned up on his elbows.

"Who the fuck invited you?" he asked, hiding his surprise. Nobody was supposed to be home. Besides, nobody could know he, a cold-blooded killer, watched the cooking channel. His rough voice reverberated through the mansion, which was silent besides the drone of the current contestant’s worrying.

"I don't need an invitation to move about in the house I live in," a velvety voice replied. A figure clothed in black emerged from the shadows, an unmistakable blue mask obscuring his face from view. 

"Oh, shut up, Jack. It was a rhetorical question." Jeff scoffed. The masked man slithered over to see the tv screen.

"Interesting show you're watching. Nice choice of ingredients." Eyeless Jack commented, ignoring the pale boy's statement.

"Fuck off, I don't watch the stupid cooking channel. I was just flipping through."

"I don't see why you wouldn't, Jeff. There's no shame, it looks quite... appetizing, doesn't it?" the masked killer purred. "Move, I want to watch."

"Nope, I was here first. Get Sally's bean bag or something," Jeff retorted, not even twitching. Eyeless Jack raised an eyebrow behind his mask and swiftly moved to put a hand on the pale boy's chest, leaning within an inch of his face. Jeff inhaled sharply, the cold weight on his chest making his throat tighten uncomfortably. His eyes darted down, taking in the killer’s boney, skeletal fingers and noticing that his usual black leather gloves were missing. 

"It's a three person couch." Jack stated, voice dripping into Jeff's ears like the black liquid from the eyeholes of his mask. Jeff shuddered.

"Did I fucking stutter?" he managed to spit out, more an accusation than a question.

"Fine, then," Jack shrugged. Jeff thought he had won the argument, but something about the grey-skinned boy's flippant response set him on edge. His suspicion was confirmed when the masked boy moved to sit directly on Jeff, straddling him.

"Wha- get off? What are you doing?" the pale-faced orphan spluttered, pushing at the thighs around his waist. He was too ashamed and embarrassed to admit even to himself that he felt a strange thrill while being manhandled.

"I'm allowed to sit on the couch, no? This is the only open seat, thanks to you," the masked boy replied, giving the extremely odd situation a completely normal explanation.

"That's not- no, you-" Jeff was usually very proud of his ability to shoot off creative insults left and right. Now, with the pair of strong thighs around his waist and the cold breath fanning over his face he found that his usually snarky mind was blank.

"Well, if you're really so uncomfortable, I can get off," Jack offered, grinding his hips down for balance before sliding his hands up Jeff's chest to push himself off. Against his will, a small groaning noise escaped from the pale killer's mouth, and his face flushed. Both froze.

"That's not- it isn't what you think," Jeff began, but he could tell the other was not listening too closely. He snapped his mouth shut, determined not to embarass himself even further. Grey hands ran up and down the front of his white sweatshirt, tickling the pale skin underneath it. Swallowing thickly, he felt a shiver go down his spine.

"What was it then, Jeffrey?"

Jeff drew a shuddering breath into his lungs and released it slowly. He tried to convince himself that the masked killer was oblivious and just toying with him.

"Come, now, where's your usual retort? I'm beginning to think there's something odd going on here," Jack observed, and Jeff could hear the cannibal lick his lips behind his dark blue mask. The black-haired killer clenched his fists to stop them from trembling. Jack was out for blood today.

"Fuck you," Jeff spluttered, refusing to let him get the last word.

"Is that what you want, then?" Jack questioned, and he slid one hand up from its spot just above his diaphragm to wrap loosely around his throat. His other hand lifted to push up the mask until just his mouth was visible. The pale slasher could see his angular jaw and his surprisingly soft-looking lips. They were a shade slightly darker than the killer's grey skin and pleasantly plump, though Jeff guessed that unbelievably sharp teeth lay just behind them. He had seen Jack's victims before and knew all too well of the beast-like bite marks where the kidneys were located, and that the punctures had always been clean-cut and deep.

He wondered if he would find out what it would be like to be on the receiving end of one of Jack's bites. Images of freshly spilt blood flooded his mind, red cascades flashing behind his eyes. His jaw clenched. 

The grey-tinted hand around his throat tightened slightly, and then it closed some more, and Jeff had to really work his lungs to take in oxygen. Jack sucked on his bottom lip as if contemplating his next action before bringing his face back down near Jeff's. He reached up and roughly grabbed a handful of his black hair, twisting it and forcing Jeff to look up.

"God, I've always wanted to rip your pretty little throat out," he rasped, moving his mouth to press his oddly cool lips against the sensitive skin. Jeff felt something wet prod him and realized that Jack was licking him. He opened his mouth to tell Jack to quit fooling around and get off of him, but in that moment he tightened his grip in his hair and bit down on the part of his neck where it met his shoulder. Jeff gasped loudly, hands whipping up to clench at Jack's shoulders. His entire body stiffened--he was not used to feeling pain inflicted by others, especially on that part of his body, so this sensation thrilled him more than anything. Jack relaxed his jaw and proceeded to lap up the crimson blood running in rivulets down his paper white neck. Some dripped from the corners of Jack’s mouth onto Jeff’s hoodie, staining it. After some time Jack gave Jeff’s neck one last lick, his unusually long tongue trailing up to his ear, before pulling back. Blood was smeared across his lips and dripping down his chin. 

"What the fuck, man," Jeff whimpered weakly. His grip on the cannibal's shoulders had not released, so Jack found himself stuck in a position hovering just above him.

"Seeing you in those plain white sweatshirts has always given me the urge to stain them with your blood and mess you up." Jack said, as if that explained what he was doing. Jeff glanced down at the red spattered on his shoulder and down his front. 

"Well, you've stained the one I'm wearing now. Are you done?" Jeff asked. He tried to look angry, but he couldn't tell if the proper expression was being conveyed because Jack just gave him a little smile.

"Do you want me to be done?" he asked, running his hands down the crimson-stained cloth to rest on the waistband of his dark jeans. Jeff felt his mind go blank again and he shook his head mechanically. Something about the way Jack was acting was intriguing, like he was weaving a spell with every drop of consumed blood. The cannibal slid his mask off the rest of the way and both heard it clunk when it hit the hardwood floor. Jeff had never seen Jack's face before, and he had a feeling that not many people had. The soft grey skin was complemented by a slim nose and wide, almond shaped holes where eyes should have been. His face remained spotless for a few moments before a black droplet fell from his left socket and trailed down his face, leaving a black stain in its wake. Jeff reflexively reached up and wiped away the drop of thick, black fluid. He was surprised to find that it felt similar to tar, except that it was much more slimy and slippery than sticky. Jack grabbed his wrist and brought the hand to his mouth before licking the fluid off. Jeff saw that his tongue was dark blue and very long, almost like a tentacle. The thought of it licking him elsewhere sent a thrill through his body.

Jack leaned down and licked Jeff's lips lightly. He parted them slightly, and the cannibal took the opportunity to slip his long tongue inside the slasher's mouth. The kiss was wet, and messy, and very warm. Jeff felt a strange kind of heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Jack grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and pulled him up slightly, slipping the length of his tongue down Jeff's throat,causing him to gag slightly. The sharp-toothed killer pulled away for a moment before moving back in and lightly biting and sucking on Jeff's lower lip. The action drew blood, flavoring their kiss with a metallic tang. He immediately decided the sting felt good and arched his back slightly so that his body pressed against Jack's. Much to his disappointment, the cannibal drew away and sat back on Jeff's lower abdomen. He frowned.

"What, you getting cold feet?" Jeff breathlessly accused him. Jack shook his head and slid down until he was kneeling over his legs. He placed a hand over Jeff's crotch and squeezed lightly, drawing a loud groan from the pale killer. "Oh, fuck you."

"If you don't want me to, just say the word," Jack said. When Jeff didn't respond, he took initiative and pulled his black jeans off his slim hips. Jeff's erection pressed painfully against his boxer briefs, and when Jack pulled them down, it sprang up. His member was just as pale as the rest of him, not accounting for its swollen redness. After flinging his pants and underwear onto the floor, he waited for Jack to make a move with no avail. Jeff grew impatient and grabbed a fistful of Jack's short brown hair.

"Fucking get on with it!" he growled, and nearly cried out when he felt Jack's tongue lick a stripe up his cock's underside. He circled the tip and ran up and down the sides a couple times before Jeff tightened his grip in warning. Jack stifled a chuckle.

"Impatient, are we?" he said in a sultry voice. Jeff shot him a glare that would have any other man tremble in fear. Jack just smiled that strangely innocent smile before taking the tip of Jeff's member into his mouth. Jeff let out a low moan and grasped at the couch cushions with his free hand. Jack circled the tip with his tongue again before carefully shifting his position so he could take him deeper without grazing him with sharp teeth. The inside of his mouth felt like a hot, tight vice, but his lips were somehow cool on the base of his cock. Jeff didn't have time to think about how weird it was, because Jack hollowed his cheeks and started bobbing at just the right pace. He moved his fingers to grasp the base and stroked it in tandem with his mouth. The black liquid flowed freely down Jack's face, some of it dripping down onto Jeff's lower abdomen and crotch, and he couldn't help but to harden further in Jack's mouth since it looked as if the eyeless killer was tearing up from taking his member so deeply. Jeff moaned almost obscenely, and Jack pulled himself off of his dick and let his saliva drip for a moment before looking eyelessly up at him. He could feel his face burning under the scrutiny of the cannibal's gaze.

"I just realized you're good at this because you eat people all the time," Jeff observed, and Jack looked as if he was rolling his nonexistent eyes.

"I haven't eaten anything yet," he said, putting emphasis on the last word. Jeff felt his stomach flutter a little and wondered what exactly he meant by that. It looked like he was about to find out, because the cannibal bent back down. He took one of Jeff's legs in each of his hands and tugged them up so that his ass was in view. The black-haired killer was about to protest when he felt Jack let go of his legs and feel up his cheeks, and ended up squeaking instead. Jack pressed his tongue flat to Jeff's entrance and dragged it across a few times before he circled the tip around the rim. He shuddered, stiffening his limbs in preparation for what he knew was coming next. Sure enough, Jack's absurdly long tongue found its way into the ring of muscle, and he couldn't really decide if the wet heat felt pleasant or uncomfortable-- he settled on both. When he felt the muscle prod at a certain spot, however, he swore loudly.

"Oh, fuck!" he gasped, hands clenching wildly in the air until one found the mop of chestnut hair on Jack's head. He didn't know what the hell the cannibal was doing down there, but damn did it feel good. He felt a slight vibration, and realized Jack was laughing, but decided that he was in no position to be offended by it while he was in danger of having his ass literally ripped off. Jack prodded the spot again and Jeff's eyes rolled up to look at the ceiling. He tightened his grip and tried fruitlessly to steady his ragged breathing. A moment later, the cannibal retracted his wet muscle and nipped at Jeff's forearm to get him to let go. The pale killer cried out in frustration, but Jack did not respond. Instead, he reached up to his left eye socket and stuck two fingers inside. He watched in horrid fascination as the grey-skinned killer retracted a glob of the black goop that normally ran down his face. Suddenly understanding what it was for, Jeff reconsidered his situation. He wasn't afraid of a little pain or discomfort, but he couldn't help but to think it was a little... well, weird.

Fortunately, he didn't have to think too hard for much longer. Jack brought his slick fingers to the pale boy's tight pucker and massaged it around gently before pressing a long appendage in. Jeff muttered something incomprehensible to even himself, and shifted because the feeling was more uncomfortable than anything else. The goop felt warm, and its slipperiness was somehow pleasant. Jack moved his finger around before pressing the second one in. He felt the slight burn of the stretch, but this time when his fingers curled, they hit that sensitive spot and Jeff's hips jerked back instinctively against them. The cannibal smirked as he removed his hand, scooped some more goop, and pushed them back in with the addition of another. He rubbed his way around the spot, but never touched it. Jeff pushed his hips back, seeking friction, but Jack just slipped his dexterous fingers out halfway and denied him of any satisfaction.

"You're a fucking asshole," Jeff growled.

"No, but I am fucking your asshole." the cannibal responded. The pale-skinned killer raised his hand to whack the other, but Jack was too fast. He slipped his fingers past the sensitive spot, and Jeff threw his head back against the couch cushion. When the spot was pressed again, he bit his lip and tasted the bitter, familiar tanginess of his own blood. He had forgotten about Jack's bite from before.

He withdrew his fingers once again and sat back to look at the scene in front of him. Jeff lay there, pale skin flushed and stained crimson and black with blood and inky fluid. The area around his shoulder wound was pink with irritation and parts of it was marred with purple bruises. Jack was no artist, but he knew a good specimen when he saw one. He tugged the killer's sweatshirt up and he moved his arms so that it could be removed and tossed onto the floor to join the rest of his clothes. Jack observed the bare chest in front of him. Jeff was pale, naturally, and had a fair amount of muscle. His arms were fairly well built, most likely as a result of his daily violent activities, and now that he was looking, Jack also noticed how thick and toned his thighs were (again, most likely from chasing around his victims all day); all in all, he understood why the slasher walked around with such swagger like he was always the hottest person in the room.

Jack, on the other hand, was much lankier. With his height came more stretched-out limbs (though not at all similar to the stick-like ones Slenderman sported)-- he had long arms and legs, but was more graceful than gangly. His muscles, while still obviously present, were more of the sinewy kind and kept him lean and able to sneak about and hide in the shadows. He remembered a time during his life where he felt overly conscious of how people viewed his body, but now, he figured that if people were going to pay a certain kind of attention to him, it would be out of fear for his abilities. After quickly removing his clothes, he left them in a neat pile near the leg of the couch before turning back to Jeff, whom he could tell was growing impatient. The pale killer looked Jack up and down a few times before letting his eyes rest on his crotch.

"You don't really think that can fit, do you?" he asked. He had always been impressed with the lanky cannibal's height, but he had never imagined that his size was... proportional to every one of his body parts.

"I'm an expert on the human body," Jack stated.

"Just because you eat people doesn't make you an expert," Jeff scoffed.

"Tell me if you think I'm skilled after I'm done with you," the cannibal said, scooping up some of his black fluid and coating his dick in a layer of it. Jeff watched him stroke up and down the length of it. He must have made a weird expression, because Jack looked up and smirked. He shifted his position and pressed the tip of it against Jeff's hole, hovering for a moment before pressing it in slightly. Jeff grimaced, feeling the stretching burn again, this time more acutely. He hissed, but refused to give the other the satisfaction of a cry.

Jack kept pressing his way in until he was fully sheathed. At that point he paused to allow Jeff to breathe and allow him to adjust to the size and feeling. After a few moments, the pale killer gestured for him to carry on, and Jack began to move. The friction and slipperiness felt strange and new to Jeff, but it wasn't really unpleasant--or pleasurable, for that matter--until Jack brushed by that sensitive spot again. He cried out in surprise and pleasure as his eyes rolled back in his skull. While he wasn't a stranger to sexual interactions, Jeff had never really seen the appeal until now. 

"For fuck's sake, you damn cannibal, do that again or I'll kill you," he panted, glaring at the grey-skinned man above him. Jack grinned, pointed teeth gleaming in the dim light of the flickering television. He slammed back into Jeff, ripping a hoarse moan from the pale killer's throat. His hands flailed a bit, and Jack pinned them both down while leaning over to nip at Jeff's throat.

"I told you I wanted to ruin this," he purred, words rumbling in his chest. He bit down gently and sucked the spot, surely leaving a dark mark behind. Jeff writhed under the sensation and strained against the grip, breaking loose and taking the opportunity to bury his hands in the cannibal's hair. Using the grip, he pulled his face up to connect their mouths. The now familiar blue tentacle of a tongue slithered its way inside. The black liquid from Jack's eyes and face smeared onto Jeff's, onto their mouths, and eventually it found its way inside. It tasted a bit like how tar smelled, but also a tad salty and sweet. It didn't have a great taste, but for its uses, it wasn't nearly as bad as he had expected. Jeff pulled away from the kiss and licked whatever part of Jack's skin he could reach to get rid of the taste. He felt the other man shiver and wondered if the cannibal fancied the idea of being eaten. Tentatively, Jeff bit the juncture between Jack's neck and shoulder and sucked on it a bit, and the cannibal groaned loudly. Black liquid pulsed out from his eyes in higher volume than normal for a moment before returning to its usual trickle. 

Jeff wanted to make a snarky comment about the other's weird kinks, and his even weirder bodily functions, but before he had the chance Jack thrust into his sensitive spot with particular force and his words transformed into a guttural moan. He began snapping his hips more wildly, and upon realizing his climax was nearing, he swiped some of the black slime and rubbed Jeff's weeping and neglected dick with it. The pale killer thrust shamelessly up into his hand, and soon both men were approaching their peaks together. 

Wordlessly, Jeff panted and whined, and he tried to make sense of himself through the waves of pleasure washing through him. He felt them coming on faster and faster, until they crashed, and he came. The cannibal slowed his pace and shuddered before coming inside him moments later and collapsing onto his back. The two laid there, both breathing heavily. The television's dully flashing screen cast strange shadows across the room and onto the pale bodies strewn across the couch. Jeff peeked at Jack, who had turned to stare at the screen. The show had run its course, and now the winner was being announced. The chef who had made breaded liver with caramelized pickles and a Nutella sauce had won.

"Good choice of dish," Jack stated, moving into a seated position. He pulled on his sweatshirt and boxers, and slung his pants over his shoulder. Then, turning to Jeff and sliding his mask back into place, he spoke before disappearing into the shadows of the stairway. "If you ever want to watch Chopped with me again, just let me know."

**Author's Note:**

> He's definitely not the only one in the house watches the cooking channel when no one else is around...


End file.
